Tag: toes

So, I’m sitting at the bus stop on Poplar Avenue the other day. I was on my way home from a part-time telemarketing job I had just started. A job that required me to lie to senior citizens to get them to donate money to firefighters; knowing full well that said firefighters would probably only see ten cents of every dollar, if anything.

Not a pleasant endeavor. Especially since I was calling folks in Louisville, Kentucky; which, I was quickly informed, is not pronounced Lew-ee-ville as I’d grown up to know it, but Luuhvul (drawn out in that slurred, southern way). My east coast “accent” instantly discredited me. They don’t understand what I’m saying, I talk too fast, and don’t even know how to pronounce their city’s name. “Where are you calling from? Why does the caller ID say Bubba Jones?” “Take me off your list and don’t call here anymore!”

Anyway, back to the bus stop. I’m sitting there and this young brother walks up to me and says, “You have pretty feet. Can I suck your toes?” Hahahahaha. What??!! I said, “No, I don’t think so, sweetheart.” He said, “You’re laughing, but I’m serious. I can suck your toes until the bus comes. I got $15.” My mind created an instant visual; me sitting there with my foot on his lap as cars are driving by. I hadn’t eaten all day and $15 would buy me a decent meal. Women have done worse for less…

The image faded and I was back to reality. He’s a nutcase, better be nice, don’t laugh at him, and don’t get him riled up. It wasn’t real late yet; just starting to get dark. But, crazies have been known to go ballistic in broad daylight.

I calmly said, “I appreciate the offer, but no thanks.” He then started going on about how he’s been trying to find a girl and when he tells them he wants to suck their toes, they look at him like he’s crazy. Really?? Nooooooo. I said, “Well, that’s probably not the best way to find a girlfriend.” I smiled and added, “Don’t worry, you’ll meet someone; just give it time.”

At this point, I guess he realized that I’m old enough to be his mother, so he starts going on about, “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I have a foot fetish and it’s hard to meet girls who are into that. Maybe if I was your age, you’d be ok with it.” I nodded and smiled. Please go away now….

Then, he added, “You look really good for your age. You have pretty feet and a pretty face. Some women your age don’t keep themselves up.”
And what age might that be, young man? Old age?
Whatever.

The creepy dude finally gave up and walked away. I looked back across the parking lot and didn’t see him. I heard a car door close, an engine started, and then I guess he drove off. Probably going home to see what his Mama made for dinner.